


but that's all i want to do right now

by nothanksweregood (eavis)



Series: straight for your heart (wolfpack au) [8]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Asexual Character, Full Shift Werewolves, Gen, Niall-centric, Pack Cuddles, Past Abuse (mentioned), ace niall, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:50:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9612521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eavis/pseuds/nothanksweregood
Summary: Maybe 2016 was the year of Realising Things, but it takes a party and a conversation with Nick Grimshaw for Niall to realise some important things about himself.Now with fully shifted werewolves!





	

**Author's Note:**

> chronologically, this falls somewhere vaguely in the middle of the currently posted fics - four to five months after liam joins their pack, and before harry gets a job in the fashion world :)

_i wanna sleep next to you_

_but that's all i wanna do right now_

_and i wanna come home to you_

_but home is just a room full of my safest sounds_

_\- talk me down, troye sivan_

* * *

 

“...so then he was like, that’s what _she_ said.”

There’s a burst of of laughter and a couple of whistles and Niall slips quietly away from the group, the uneasy feeling that had been in the pit of his stomach since the beginning of the story turned into a churning mess. It’s been a mostly good night overall; the majority of the people at the party are all friends of Nick’s, and they’re all bright and loud and ironically funny. Whatever that means. Niall’s not sure, but it seems to involve A) jokes that make Louis roll his eyes and mutter a lot and B) jokes about sex.

Niall doesn’t mind laughing at the jokes he doesn’t really understand, but the ones about sex always have him bracing because as bad as the setup is, the punchline is going to be worse. He wants Zayn, and for Harry to stop laughing at all the jokes like he’s trying to think of one of his own. He’s not used to wishing Harry were different, and he doesn’t like it.

But Zayn’s still out of town, and Louis is probably rearranging all of Nick’s cupboards “for a laugh” and making Liam help him, so Niall will settle for a dark, quiet room by himself at this point. The lav is occupied, because of course it is, but he knows Nick has a spare room somewhere on this hall he can probably sit in for a couple minutes until his stomach quiets. One of the doors is slightly ajar, and he sighs in relief, halfway through it before he even thinks to knock.

There’s a shriek and quite a lot of creative swearing and Niall’s back out in the hallway, hands shaking and feeling exactly as if he’s going to throw up.

“Hello, Niall Hor-an, are you in line for the toilet as well?” And of course there’s Grimmy, hair fallen just a bit out of its usual glorious quiff and making it worse by running his hands through it. “Listen, I always cordon off the loo in my room for these things but I’ll make an exception for -“ He cuts off, expressive face turning concerned. “Are you alright, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

There’s a very loud moan from the room beside them and Nick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Ah. Aimee forgot to lock the door, I see.”

“I - didn’t mean to -“ Niall stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets, curling them into fists. “I was just - I’m sorry, I didn’t think there was -“

“Hey, hey, no harm done. They’ve forgotten anything happened already, I’m sure.” Nick is still frowning, and he takes Niall’s arm gently, steering him towards the room at the end of the hall. “Here, come sit in my room for a minute. I’m going to burst if I don’t have a wee just this minute, but you sit and I’ll fetch Louis for you from whatever destruction he’s unleashing as soon as I’m done.”

Niall follows unresisting, obeying the gentle push towards the bed as Nick ducks under the police tape blocking the door to the toilet. There’s a nice throw on the bed, something dove-grey and soft under Niall’s hands, and he works his fingers into it, trying to slow his breathing down in hopes of making the awful sick feeling go away.

“I have to say,” Nick says cheerfully, reappearing, “there’s nothing quite like the relief one feels after a good wee. Now then, what’s wrong with our Niall? Thought you were going to be sick all over me, you looked that green.”

“Sorry.” Niall feels awkward now, even though he _likes_ Nick, really. He hadn’t realised he’d been so...visible. But Nick’s just smiling at him gently. “I can go find Louis if you like, but if it’s about Ian and Aimee, it’s really fine, Niall. Neither of them will even remember it. Promise.”

“No, it’s not - I mean, it is, sort of, I feel really awful about - I know it’s private, I was just looking for somewhere quiet was all, I didn’t mean to - interrupt.”

“Bit overwhelming, these bashes.” Nick nods, understandingly. “Come to think of it, you were looking a bit peaky earlier as well. I’m surprised young Harold didn’t notice and pull you out.”

Niall shrugs, focusing intently on his fingers disappearing into the plush blanket. “Harry loves these kinds of things, don’t he. Just got a bit - warm, is all.”

“Hmm.” Nick gets up, rummaging in his closet and coming out with another blanket, light blue this one, and draping it over Niall’s shoulders before dropping gracelessly to lay across the foot of the bed. “Look, it’s none of my business, and you can definitely tell me to bugger right off, but are you sure that was it? Just, you seem a bit rattled, love.”

Niall hunches into the blanket, glad of the extra warmth even though he knows it’s got to be pretty warm in here already. His stomach still feels like there’s a cold hard knot in the middle of it. He keeps his eyes determinedly away from Nick’s concerned ones, says, “You’d better - go back to your party. Lou’s probably reorganised half your kitchen by now.”

“Tosser,” Nick says amiably and then, quiet, “Like I said. None of my business at all, and I know you’ve got your whole pack to tell things to. Don’t really need another nosy bugger sticking his whatsit in where he’s not wanted, just. I know sometimes it’s easier to tell things to someone on the outside, if there’s something you wanted to tell.”

His hands are trembling where they’re clutching the throw, Niall notes distantly, and he wonders what’ll happen if he really does throw up all over Nick’s nice blankets. “Why d’you reckon there’s anything to tell?”

“Was watching your face, wasn’t I. When everyone was telling those stories earlier. And just now with Ian and Aimee. There’s nothing - don’t have to like those kinds of things, y’know.”

Niall laughs, the bitterness of it surprising even him. “Rest of the world disagrees. Weird, innit. 21-year-old lad and doesn’t even get half the jokes. Not thinking it’s a laugh walking in on someone -” He stops, abrupt.

Grimmy just looks at him, steady. “Nothing wrong with not liking stuff t’do with sex. If that’s your thing.”

“It’s not just -“ Niall starts. Stops. “I mean, it’s the -“ He stops again. “Just - it’s weird to feel this way about it. Somethin’ wrong with me, Greg used t’say.” He stops, eyes and face hot. Nick’s going to laugh now and agree, and it’ll be confirmed what Niall’s known for years and hasn’t ever dared to ask Zayn or Louis, because of course he’s strange and _wrong_ and _Harry_ doesn’t have a problem with this stuff, even _Liam_ doesn’t have a problem laughing at jokes like that, what the hell is wrong with -

“It’s called being ace.” Nick’s voice interrupts him, and Niall’s head snaps up. Nick is smiling at him, but it’s a little sad. “Asexual. Maybe aromantic, although, really, you’re the only one who can make that call.”

“I don’t -“ Niall stutters to a stop again. He can feel the start of tears pressing behind his eyelids, and he blinks, trying to force them away. “I don’t - understand. Is that like - gay?”

“Sort of, yeah. It’s - well, you know I’m gay.” He says it easily, waits for Niall to nod before he goes on, “so, like. I like blokes. And some ladies like other ladies, obviously. And some people like all types, and some people just don’t. Not like, sexually. And that’s fine, really. Probably clearer-headed for not thinking with - anyway. So. They’re called asexuals, or ace. And sometimes people hate the romance bit, too, not just the sex stuff, and that’s aromantic. Think there are lots more types, actually, but you’d be better off asking google than me for those.”

“How do you - you’re not just making it up?” Niall winces at the ragged edge of hope around his words, but Nick just shakes his head, pulling his mobile out of his pocket and tapping something into the web browser. “See for yourself, if y’like.”

Niall’s eyes flick wildly back and forth on the webpage helpfully entitled ‘Asexuality And You,’ heart beginning to race again as he mentally ticks off the boxes. His hands feel curiously numb as he hands the device back to Nick, and it takes him two tries to say, “So I’m not - there’s not something wrong with me?”

“Oh, love.” Nick looks really upset now. “Of course there’s not. Nothin’ a bit wrong with you. Nothing broken or weird or any of that shit people told you.” He pauses. “Niall, you know you could - I’m glad you’re talking to me, obviously, I’m really glad, especially since all that rubbish earlier, but - I’m sure Zayn would love to talk to you about all this. Louis, too. He thinks you hung the sun in the bloody sky, that one.”

“I didn’t think - I mean. It’s just jokes, innit. Lots of people make jokes about this stuff all the time, I thought it was just -“ Niall rests a hand on his stomach, uneasy again at the memories of earlier, of last week, of the last fifteen years of his _life_. “I didn’t. Seems a bit weird, innit. Asking people to stop making jokes. Rude, like.”

“Not if it’s making you uncomfortable. _Especially_ not if it’s with your pack. Listen, I can have a word with Harry if you like. I know he’d be happy to - “

“No!” It comes out too fast and too forceful, but Niall doesn’t take it back. “No, I - I’ll talk to him. Them. Don’t say anything. Please, Grim.”

“‘Course not, unless you want.” Nick’s got that funny, sad little smile again. “You should tell them, though. Not about the ace thing, if you don’t want, but just - that you don’t like those sorts of jokes. They’re all good lads, even Tomlinson. I think they’d want to know.”

Niall just nods, fingers wrapped tight in the blanket again. “Thanks,” he manages.

Nick stands up, bending down again to press a quick kiss to Niall’s cheek like Niall’s seen him do to Harry and even Liam a million times. “Anytime, pet. I’d better get down and make sure no one’s set anyone on fire. Stay as long as you like.”

__

Niall can sense Louis’ eyes on him as they round up Harry and Liam and make their way home, and he wonders if Nick said something to Louis even after he promised not to.

But Louis corners him after Harry and Liam have stumbled up to bed, leaning on each other all giggly and sleepy-soft, touching the back of his hand gently to stop him following them up. “Everything all right, Nialler? Y’seem a bit quiet.”

Niall attempts a shrug. “Jus’ tired, y’know.”

Louis nods understandingly. “Can be a bit much, Grimmy’s bashes.” His eyes narrow. “I don’t need to have a talk with anyone?”

Niall’s mind goes at once to his talk with Nick and it takes him a beat too long to respond for Louis’ hyperactive Niall-sonar.

“Neil.”

“Hate it when you call me that,” Niall mutters, tugging anxiously at his shirt cuffs. He wishes Zayn were here. Zayn knows when to back off and leave Niall for a bit, but you have to communicate right off with Louis, and even then he’ll probably fret himself into a breakdown over it. He forces himself to meet Louis’ eyes. “It’s fine, Lou. Had a bit of a talk with - someone, there. It was good, just. Need some time t’think about it, like.”

Louis eyes him for a long moment, gaze sharp and heavy, but at length he nods, once. “You can say it was Nick, babe. I’m not going to throw a fit, I promise.”

Niall just shrugs again, glancing away. The stuff with Nick and Louis is mostly old by now, genuine fights and misunderstandings smoothed into amiable teasing and pranks, but Niall knows Louis still struggles with old fears over Harry leaving them for someone more interesting. Louis sighs. “Alright, then. ‘S late, we’d best all get to bed. You in with Haz ‘n Payno tonight?”

“Dunno, I thought -“ Niall hesitates. “Zayn’s back t’night, yeah? Late?”

“More like early morning, but yeah.” Louis’ eyes are soft again, understanding. “Want to come in with me and wait for him?”

Niall nods silently, and Louis moves forward, wraps Niall in a warm hug. “You take however long you need, my love. And if it’s a Zayn thing, that’s fine, I promise. All fine. Love you.”

“Love you.”

___

Niall doesn’t say anything and doesn’t say anything, until it’s the full moon and the other four have full-shifted, chasing each other in dizzying circles around and around the trees in their front yard as he waits on the porch, bones aching under the bright full light above him. He can’t stop himself from thinking it’s another way he’s different from other people, from his pack even, that he doesn’t like to shift, not even under a full moon. Not like Harry who’ll strip and shift like it’s easier than breathing, or like Zayn who wears this skin just as gracefully as he does the other. Not like Louis with his fiercely delighted exultance in what he can do in this form, all tongue and tail and gently biting teeth. Or even Liam, still unsure but excited to learn and follow and _do_. The thought of it still makes Niall feel like he’s locked in a small, dark basement on his own, with the growled order not to come out until he’s shifted. Louis says it’s fine, that someday it might change, and Zayn says it’s fine if it never changes, that it doesn’t make him any less a member of the pack. Niall still feels the absence of it like a thornbush growing under his skin, especially on nights like this. He props his head on his hand and waits.

Zayn comes back first, not close to the limits of what his body can do, but his human indolence takes over faster than the others even on a full moon, and he flops full-body down on Niall’s feet, panting happily. Niall smiles back, reaching to sink his hands into Zayn’s full ruff of fur and Zayn leans up to lick his cheek. Liam’s next, still a little unsure of himself on four feet, charging up and stopping just short of them - only to overbalance and land with his head in Niall’s lap. He pulls back, shaking himself, and _whoofs_ a little, nosing at Niall’s jaw in apology. Niall smoothes his hands down Liam’s sides, nuzzling back. This part at least, is familiar enough.

Harry and Louis are last, chasing each other back into the clearing and rolling over and over, growling madly until Louis pins Harry firmly, jaws open over his throat. Harry whines and rolls on his back, stomach flashing in submission. Louis huffs in satisfaction, stepping back and shaking himself. He trots over to Niall, stepping over Zayn and Liam to drape himself half across Niall’s lap and nudging Niall’s hand for a pet.

They all rest happily for a few minutes before Harry nips Zayn sharply in the hindquarters and dashes off again, followed hotly by Louis and Liam. Niall settles back, weight resting easily on his palms, and waits.

They’re always a little slow when they finally come in for the night, Harry usually switching easily between forms and Zayn with his human limbs all heavy and moving like even the smallest article of clothing is too restrictive. Louis adapts the best, bundling them all into comfy trackies and thin tshirts against the night chill and helping Niall make cocoa for everyone. Even Liam’s boundless energy is muted, fighting his tired body and mind to muster the enthusiasm for one more thing.

“Hey,” Niall murmurs to Louis as they go through the familiar, easy motions of heating milk (soya for Harry, who’s avoiding milk in hopes of clearing up a cold) and stirring in the cocoa and vanilla and, for Zayn and Niall, a bit of cardamom.

“Hiya, lovely-love.” Louis smiles at him, tired but happy with all his pack home safe. “What’s up?”

Niall fights the voice that’s telling him to just let it go, let it be, there’s no need to make trouble, he can just deal. But Harry’s voice comes then, the pleased-with-himself drawl he gets when he’s saying something he thinks is especially funny, and it’s a story Niall’s heard before, but Liam probably hasn’t. He turns on the water full blast and scrubs a little harder than necessary at the few dirty dishes they’ve made. When he turns the water off, all he can hear is Liam’s sputtering laughter, and his shoulders relax. Louis is frowning at him. “Something wrong with you ‘n Haz, Nialler?”

“Me ‘n Harry are fine.” Niall wants to let it drop there, but now that Louis has got wind of something he’ll definitely not let that happen. He tightens his grip on the spatula he’s washing, hoping to mask the way his hands are shaking. “Just - you remember. Couple’ve weeks ago. At - at Grimmy’s thing?”

Louis has put down the spoon he was using to stir the cocoa, giving Niall his full attention. “Somethin’ was bothering you, aye, and you wanted some space for it.”

“Yeah.” Niall takes a deep breath and then another. “We were - I walked in on. On a couple of his friends? They hadn’t. Locked the door.”

Louis pulls a face. “Gross.”

And - oh. That’s. Interesting. But Niall can’t spare the mental space to think about it now, just tucks it away for later, soldiers on. “So, like. Nick was there right after and he saw my - reaction, I guess? We had a bit of a - talk in his room. He said it was - that I wasn’t broken, like. There wasn’t something wrong with me for not wanting. That.”

Louis has a puzzled look on his face, but it smoothes out into righteous indignation at that. “I should think not! Nothing a bit wrong with our Nialler. I’d’ve punched him if he’d said differently.”

“Lou.” Niall would laugh if the tight, anxious feeling weren’t closing up his throat, making it hard to even talk. “There’s lots of things wrong with all of us and you know it. He just - he said this wasn’t anything I needed to change.”

“What isn’t, sweetheart?” Louis’ voice is almost as gentle as the hand he settles on Niall’s stomach, curling around him and hooking his chin over Niall’s shoulder, nuzzling under his ear. “Can you give me some clues about what we’re talking about here?”

“I don’t like sex.” Niall pushes it out on one big breath, adds quickly, before he can think better of it, “I don’t like jokes about it or - or thinking about people doing it or any of that. Nick said - Nick says there’s a name for people like me. Asexual, he said.”

He can feel the rise and fall of Louis breathing against his back, and he closes his eyes, just holding on as best he can, waiting.

“That’s fine, obviously.” Louis’ voice is slow when it comes. “Don’t have to like it or like talking about it, and I know it can - if there’s a name for it, that’s. Helpful. Sometimes. I guess I’m wondering more like. Why you’d not say anything? If you’ve been feeling like this for so long.”

“Didn’t want to make a fuss,” Niall mumbles.

Louis hums, the sound vibrating warmly against Niall’s back. “Know it’s hard to ask for things you need, but none of us mind. Not one bit.”

“I know. I do, I just - it’s. This feels different? From. Like. Not watching stuff with lots of explosions in or whatever. It’s not because of - of the abuse stuff. It’s just me.”

“It’s not okay to need things if it’s just you?” Louis’ voice is sad, and Niall flinches.

“Everything okay in here?” Zayn’s in the doorway, his quilt clutched about his shoulders instead of a shirt, hair mussed and still moving more like his wolf form than human.

Niall moves to step away, feeling like he’s an imposition in a way he hasn’t in months, but Louis just tightens his grip, presses a nuzzling kiss to the hinge of Niall’s jaw. “One of those hard conversations, babe.” To Niall, “You’re good, love, you’re fine.”

Zayn looks from one to another. “Is this a Louis-and-Niall conversation or a pack thing?” He moves forward, takes three mugs in one fist and two in the other. “Just, can think of more comfy places to have it than the kitchen, like. If it’s a pack thing.”

“Niall?” Louis asks, soft.

Niall feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. He takes his hands out of the dishwater, dries them slowly on the towel and hangs on to it, twisting it between his fingers. “I - could you. Um. Could you say it? Please, Lou?”

“Whatever you need, I promise, but I don’t think I understand it completely, so you might have to tell us when you need space from questions.”

Niall nods, silent. Lets Louis take the much-abused towel from his hands and twine his own fingers through Niall’s instead. “Hey. I watch your back, you watch mine, yes? We got this.”

Zayn keeps mum, but his smile when Niall makes himself meet his eyes is warm and crinkles the corners of his eyes in the way that’s always meant ‘safe.’

Harry’s in human form, lying half in Liam’s lap as they come in, obviously not wearing any pants or anything underneath his blanket toga. Liam’s got one hand in his hair and the other rubbing over the squishy-soft of Harry’s stomach, and his eyes are slits of pleasure. Louis steers them to Niall’s chair in the corner, letting Niall sit and curling himself up at his feet, hooking one hand securely around Niall’s ankle and leaning his head firmly against Niall’s thigh.

Zayn hands out the mugs of cocoa, nudging Harry’s foot with his knee when he doesn’t move right away. “Up, lazy bones, Niall’s got a pack thing.”

Harry scrambles upright, Liam’s hands steadying on his hips, and they both look expectantly at Niall.

“Right, then.” Louis smiles sharply around the circle. “Our Niall’s asexual. Anyone got any questions or problems?”

There’s a short, breathless silence like they’ve all simultaneously stepped out of an airlock without their spacesuits on, and then Liam, hesitant, raises his hand. “Sorry,” he says, and he really looks it, “just - I don’t know what that means. I thought it was - plants and stuff? Sorry, that’s probably me being stupid about it, I know Niall’s not a - not that you wouldn’t be a nice plant, obviously, a really lovely plant.”

Harry is frowning ferociously, but it’s Zayn who says quietly, “It means you’re not attracted to anyone sexually, Lee-yum. But it’s also a plant thing, you’ve got that right.” Then to Niall, “I love you, Nialler. I’m sorry if I’ve said things or - done things, that made you uncomfortable. I’ll try and do better about that in the future.”

“It’s okay,” Niall manages in a whisper. He clears his throat, tries again, “I didn’t - tell any of you lot. And, like. Only had a name for it since a couple weeks ago. Nick, um. Nick told me that might be - what I was, so I looked it up? And, like. Yeah. It all fit, so.”

“So you don’t like - what about, like, kissing and stuff?” Liam looks very red in the face, but determined at the same time. Niall can’t help glancing at Harry, but Harry’s still frowning at his mug. He musters a smile for Liam. “Kissing’s okay, most times, like.” His eyes flick to Zayn and then down to Louis. He reaches down for Louis’ hand, squeezing it hard. “I like it with - with Louis, and when Zayn kisses me, it’s good, but it’s - it’s not romantic, like.” He shakes his head, frustrated with himself. “I’m not explaining very well, it’s just - I don’t like romantic things or sex stuff, but if it’s just - ‘hi, hello, I love you, you’re my pack’ kind of stuff, that’s all good. Just don’t like thinkin’ about the other stuff.”

Harry gets up, abrupt, setting his mug down on the coffee table just this side of too hard as he stalks out of the room. Niall’s heart sinks all the way down to the space socks he put on this morning for some extra courage. He makes an involuntary movement to get up, to follow Harry and try and fix this, but Louis’ hand tightens on his ankle. “Let him go.” he says, looking at Zayn. They’re communicating in their silently effective way, and after a space Louis sighs and goes after Harry, dropping a parting kiss on Niall’s fingertips.

Zayn stays on the couch, opening his arms for Niall, and Liam obligingly scoots a bit so there’s room for Niall to curl up small, feet in Liam’s lap and the rest of him in Zayn’s tight hug. There are times when too much physical contact is too suffocating still, making him feel like he’s helpless again to do anything but stand still and take it. But times like now when his brain is telling him he’s fucked everything up and no one will ever care about him again because of it - well. The tighter the hug the better.

Liam makes a sad, soft noise, taking one of Niall’s feet in both hands and running a firm thumb along the instep. “Harry’s probably just - confused. Right, Zayn? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t do even a bit of a thing wrong. Nothing wrong with you at all,” Zayn promises steadily. “If I had to guess, sunshine, I’d say Harry’s feeling a bit guilty.”

Niall’s head comes up at that, bumping sharply against Zayn’s chin. “He’s not got anything to feel guilty about,” he protests. “I never - I didn’t mean to make him feel like that.”

Zayn winces a bit, and Niall kisses his chin in apology. Liam interjects, slow, “I think - Zayn’s probably right. I mean, I feel bad, honestly. I didn’t like - I mean. I’m not very good at making jokes anyway, but I know I laughed at them plenty, and Harry’s always liked those kinds of jokes, you know? And telling stories and - like. Anyway.” Liam looks awkward, and his face is very red, but he finishes determinedly, “I want to say sorry about that, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, like - like Zayn said earlier. Harry probably wants to apologise, too, but he’s just - got to have a cry about it first, I think.”

Niall pulls a face, some sort of growly, unhappy animal-thing in his stomach turning round and round uneasily at the notion that he may have made Harry cry. He and Harry aren’t _like_ that, they don’t - they don’t make each other cry, they make each other laugh. They’ve always been easy and uncomplicated, ever since that first day at the farmer’s market. Niall doesn’t want this to change anything, he doesn’t want Harry to feel like he has to be someone different around Niall just because he’s ace or whatever. “I don’t want him to feel like that,” he mumbles. “Don’t want any of you feeling like that. Just thought, like. You should know.”

“I’m glad you said.”

Niall sits up quickly, knocking heads with Liam who groans dramatically, but he pays no attention to his own sore head, eyes on Harry standing in the doorway. Louis is standing behind him, hand firmly on one forearm. Harry’s eyes are swollen a bit and his nose is suspiciously red. “I’m glad you said something,” he soldiers on, shoulders hunched a little and toes turned inward. “I’m just sorry I - didn’t know before. I know it was probably mostly me making you uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Niall.”

Niall moves out of Zayn’s arms and up and over to step into the circle of Harry’s, burying his nose just under Harry’s ear where his scent is strongest. “I love you,” he says first and then, “I forgive you, of course, petal, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Harry clears his throat, stepping back and wiping at his eyes, trying to smile normally. “Are we still going to watch a film? Just, I think I’d rather not watch anything exciting, tonight.”

“ _Lilo and Stitch_ alright?” Zayn asks, coming up and putting a hand on Harry’s arm and the other on Niall’s shoulder.

“Good by me.” Niall nods, turning his head to kiss the back of Zayn’s hand.

Louis shuffles forward, bumping them all towards the living room impatiently. “C’mon then, be easier to cuddle on the couch than in the doorway.”

They all stay close, Niall in the middle. Harry goes to put his legs in Niall’s lap and then hesitates, glancing worriedly at Niall.

Niall rolls his eyes and hauls them into his lap, running his fingers over the sole to make Harry shriek and try and pull away.

He feels much better by the time the movie ends and they’ve all sleepily bundled into the bathroom to wash their faces (Harry and Zayn), take a quick shower (Liam and Louis), and brush their teeth (all of them). The frantically fluttering feeling in his stomach has calmed a little, and by the time he climbs into bed, turning his face into the cool pillow with a sigh, it’s nearly disappeared.

It’s not five minutes before the door nudges open, and Liam’s muzzle comes around the door. He pads over to the bed and puts a paw up, patting at the side of the bed. Niall smiles at him sleepily. “C’mon up, then.”

Liam’s tongue lolls happily out of his mouth and he leaps up, curling into the crook behind Niall’s knees. Niall reaches blindly behind himself to rub a hand through Liam’s fur and hears the _thump_ of Liam’s tail wagging. He’s just closed his eyes again when there’s a knock at the door and Harry’s head pokes in. “My room is cold,” he says, not quite meeting Niall’s eyes.

Niall holds out a hand. “Liam ‘n I are pretty warm. I’m big spoonin’ it, though.”

Harry brightens and hurries over, crawling in in front of Niall. “Little spoon,” he says happily. “We fit!”

Niall winces as Harry’s cold toes knock into his shins, but tugs him closer anyway. “Think Zayn and Lou are gonna show up? Feelin’ like I’m from that thunderstorm bit in Sound of Music.”

“Zayn’s already asleep probably.” Harry buries his face in the hollow between Niall’s collarbone and chin, snuffling contentedly. “Could sleep through a tornado, much less a thunderstorm.”

“True that.” Niall yawns, staring up at the dim ceiling.

The door creaks open almost ominously slowly, and Louis trots in, Zayn clearly more than half asleep draped over his back. Niall grins, poking Harry. “Guess this makes me Maria after all.”

“Not fair everyone else getting Niall cuddles,” Zayn mumbles, obeying Louis’ helpful nips and nudges towards the bed without opening his eyes. “I want soft Niall cuddles.”

Liam helpfully moves down to lay across Niall and Harry’s feet, Louis jumping up to lay half on top of him and half across Zayn’s legs where he’s burrowing into Niall’s back.

Zayn is completely asleep in two seconds flat, and Niall slows his breathing to match, pressing a hand to Harry’s chest until they’re all three breathing in sync. Louis is mouthing sleepily at Liam’s ear, and Liam’s tail is wagging slowly in acknowledgement. Niall smiles into Harry’s curls, letting his own eyes close. Tomorrow, he’ll text Nick and just. Say thanks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!!! i'd really love to know ur thoughts on this one especially - it's definitely the most autobiographical thing ive ever written so im a lil nervous abt it BUT thats what i wrote these for - working thru stuff and telling each other stories abt ourselves thru these boys. love u guys!


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